Preferences
by Karigan Aisling
Summary: A Dwarf teams up with two Men to avenge Aragorn's stolen pride from a certain Elf, but who will be the victor? Second part to 'Score'.


Another pointless little ficlet from me. Sorry to all those waiting for the next part to 'Sorry', but the next chapter will be up sometime this week. Hopefully.

This is the next part to 'Score' but concentrates on three major characters, Legolas, Gimli and Frodo. 

Oh yeah, and I don't own any of them, they belong to the almighty God, Tolkien. 

_A Dwarf joins forces with two Men to try and avenge Aragorn's stolen pride from a certain Elf, but who will become the overall victor?_

"This is ridiculous." Gimli mumbled to himself. Aragorn had been glaring at  the elf for several hours now, and still had gotten no response. Legolas had stayed on his perch above the rest of the Fellowship, whittling a piece of wood with a small dagger from his pack. 

The four hobbits were, of course, eating breakfast. Whether it was first or second breakfast the dwarf was not sure, but it looked tempting. Sam's cooking was definitely a good asset to their group. Without him, they would have been eating dried bread and whatever could have been hunted.  There was no point in him getting up, however, for as soon as he made any effort to move, all four hobbits would give him a seething glare, as if they thought him a threat to their meal. 

Boromir and Aragorn were settled underneath the bough that held Legolas, and both had lit up their pipes. The smoke travelled upwards, slipping through the branches and past the bunches of leaves. 

Gimli dimly wondered how long it would take the over-sensitive elf to start causing a scene and launch into his 'smoking is a terrible habit' speech, and wondered if that would indeed lead into his 'mortals have the strangest hobbies' speech. 

He really did have the strangest sense of taste.

But then again, elves were strange in general.

He may as well help the two men in their quest to annoy the elf. He had nothing else to do. Heaving himself up, ignoring the huddle of hobbits protecting their valuable food, and sitting next to Aragorn, Gimli unwrapped his smoking pipe also. Glancing at the questioning faces of his two companions, the dwarf gestured subtly to the above branches. The men caught on easily, and the three settled down for a decent smoke.

Gandalf was watching amusedly, smoking his pipe and creating various shapes with the smoke, though by his gaze, he was obviously eager to find out what the three other members of the fellowship were doing.

Soon enough, after a large amount of smoke had slipped its way upwards, a soft cough was heard from above. This was followed by various mutterings in a soft Elvish voice, and finally, a growl and the appearance of their companion descending gracefully from his safe hold in the tree.

Aragorn slipped his pipe from his lips and smiled innocently at his annoyed friend.

"What troubles your fair face dear Legolas?" he asked, smiling at the disgusted look he was given. 

He was given no answer, but rather dodged backwards as Legolas swiped furiously at his hand, in an attempt to steal away the pipe. Aragorn quickly tried to move backwards but was effectively stopped when his head collided with the tree trunk. He dropped the pipe on the floor and a slender hand spirited it away. Boromir, who was laughing at the ranger's clumsiness, also lost his pipe, much easier than his friend, since he was almost crying with laughter. Legolas quickly stowed the two pipes within his pack an threw it back onto his branch for safekeeping.

A triumphant smile lit up the prince's face as he held up the two objects (at arms length -Gimli noted with a chuckle) Legolas whipped his head around and looked startled as though he hadn't seen the dwarf there. His eyes moved from the dwarf's face, to his left hand. He brought his eyes back to his companion's. Steely blue.

Gimli scowled. Legolas wasn't going to get his pipe away from him that easily. He loved his pipe as though a mother would love her first born. He even kept it wrapped in silk when he was not using it. 

He slipped the pipe back into its silken casing and got to his feet, pulling out one of his smaller axes and putting himself between the elf and his beloved. 

The hobbits all turned around from their little group huddle and watched intently. This was not the first encounter that the two had had since leaving Rivendell, and they were always interesting, one way or another. Normally Gandalf would intervene, and caution both of them, but one quick glance at the wizard showed that he was indeed out of it, staring into space with a small smile on his face.

"I don't see what the problem is, Gimli. It is only a pipe. Nothing interesting. Just give it to me." Gimli scowled.

"Why you mortals fill your lungs with smoke anyway is anybody's guess. It is a disgusting habit, one that I intend to stop, or at least cut you down on, by the end of this trip. There is no point in smoking anyway, it only relieves your mind temporarily. It is indeed a strange creature that must wreathe itself in smoke in order to survive the day. If it affected you as it clearly does Mithrandir, then there would only be myself who would be in a fit situation to be of any use to this Fellowship. If you don't give the pipe, friend dwarf, then I will take it anyway."

And with that, Legolas leapt towards his shorter companion, drawing a knife with one hand, and reaching out with his other. Gimli slashed at the blonde elf, the scowl never leaving his face. They circled each other, eyes never moving of the other pair watching them. Legolas launched himself forward, which propelled Gimli back. 

*CRUNCH*

Gimli's eyed widened. He stepped up and brought his foot back. His precious pipe was lying there, pressed into the soft mud, he bent down and peeled off the casing. His beautiful pipe lay there, cracked into four pieces. Howling in anguish, Gimli threw himself at the shocked elf, banging into him and throwing him backwards. Legolas recovered and sprang back onto his feet. He slipped his other knife out of its scabbard and got into a fighting stance.

  
A brief spell of clangs and the sound of metal captivated the Fellowship. Legolas, with all of his grace and style, was obviously the more practised. But Gimli, with his sure foot hold and steady grip was more than a match for the foolish elf. Swinging his axe around and catching the elf's left knife, he swiftly disarmed one half of the elf's weaponry. Though it did not matter much, for Gimli knew that Legolas was ambidextrous anyway. He loosed one hand of his axe and grabbed the elf's wrist. This clearly startled his friend, for he had not expected that.

He then twisted slightly, and pulled the light elf around, propelling him over to the other side of their camp, and into an undignified heap into the Hobbit's meal. With a smile, the dwarf went over to his injured baby and caressed it gently. It would be fixed, he mused. 

"It seems, Legolas, that you have been put into your place this morn." A soft voice called softly. Gandalf stepped up with a smile on his face. 

Legolas faced him with a dazzling smile.

"Oh no, Mithrandir, in a way, I have won also. I have the two men's pipes in my pack, and the clumsy dwarf has demolished his own. It seems as though in a way, we have both succeeded."  He exclaimed, while getting up and attempting to rub himself down. He was immediately pulled back down again and assaulted by four pairs of hobbit hands. Gandalf laughed as the usually stoic elf was tickled mercilessly, and was in the power of his companions.

Gimli smirked at the sight and cradled his broken pipe to his chest. Indeed, he had no more pipes of his own to smoke, but Merry always had one spare, and he was sure that the other Hobbits would have also. Legolas would have to wait, for soon he would avenge his broken pipe and then, he could irritate the elf all the more.

There was a new score to settle.

And Gimli was a sore loser.


End file.
